The Lost Soul
by ROONILWAZLIB101
Summary: Ron wakes up in Australia, he doesn't remember who he is or where he came from. When he meets a married couple they immediately hit it off. But will it be too late to retrieve Ron's memories? R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all:D This story just came to me one night and I got really excited but I haven't really gotten around to posting it. It's a working progress and I'd love to know what people think of it, please enjoy. I wrote this listening to Robert Pattinson – Never Think.**

**Chapter 1**

"_Gone…he's gone. He's not coming back and there's nothing that can bring him back. You're just being stupid, you do know that. You've looked at every book and tried every spell to try and get him back, and everything's failed," _

Hermione Granger thought this as she sobbed helplessly into her pillow; the large wet patch was getting bigger by the minute. She sat on top of Ronald Weasley's bed, clutching his pillow as if imagining it was him. It smelt exactly like him, cheap cologne and butter rolls. It hurt her physically and mentally that the love of her life had been ripped right out from under her nose and taken from her, just as they began to realise they were meant to be together.

It had been about two weeks since Ronald Weasley had disappeared, the Ministry tried to find him but to no avail. They pronounced him dead and they held a funeral for him just a few hours ago. The realisation that she'd never hear his voice again, hold him in her arms again, never be able to grip his beautiful red hair again pained her more then anything she had ever felt. His family were trying to keep it together but only just, Ginny was barely coping but was trying to be strong for the family, Mr and Mrs Weasley weren't doing much better and all of his brothers were the lowest she'd ever seen them all the while that she's known them.

Harry had fled to Grimmauld Place for some alone time, he told her in only a few words. "I'm going to Grimmauld Place for a few days and don't bother to talk me out of it. It won't work," He'd left after that and Hermione hasn't seen him since, but only for a few fleeting moments at the funeral.

Her crying went on until there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Come in," Hermione whispered in a hoarse voice, she hadn't spoken to anyone for hours and her throat was soar and dry from crying. Ginny entered the room and sat down next to the crying figure, her sobs filled with grief and anguish. Her face was hidden and buried in Ron's pillow; Ginny felt a pang of loss as she heard Hermione weeping. It was the saddest crying that she'd heard in her life, it was something that nothing could fix not even Phoenix tears. Nothing could mend a broken, smashed up heart like Hermione's. Ginny let her sob for another ten minutes, until finally Hermione tried to gain control and her sobs died down.

The silence dragged on until nothing was heard except for Hermione hiccoughing occasionally. Ginny put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and took it as a good sign that she did not flinch away. They once again sat like this for a while until Hermione grabbed Ginny's hand and squeezed it; she looked up at Ginny for the first time. Hermione's eyes were bloodshot and puffy; she looked like she hadn't slept in days. Even though Ginny saw Hermione that day, she never saw her face because Hermione was wearing dark sunglasses the whole service. But every now and then when Ginny looked over at her, a single tear escaped from Hermione's eye and rolled down her cheek and passed the edge of the sunglass frame, but she quickly wiped it away.

Hermione sat up cautiously, as if testing to see if she was still co-ordinated enough to sit up. She then turned to Ginny and looked into her eyes. Ginny was saddened by what she saw, Hermione's eyes were filled with such grief that Ginny could not look directly into her eyes.

"What's up Ginny?" Hermione asked quietly, her voice harsh and croaky.

Ginny was at a loss for words, she really didn't know what to say to her grieving friend. Of course she was grieving too, but she hadn't just the lost the love of her life, but she still lost a brother and that pain hurt badly.

"I…uh…just wanted to see how you were doing," Ginny said and again attempted to look into Hermione's pained eyes but the pain she saw was too overwhelming.

"How do you think I'm doing? Seriously I'm just all happy about this situation," Hermione said sarcastically. Ginny was taken aback by Hermione's response, Ginny didn't respond she only sat there and stared at disbelief at her best friend.

"Um…Hermi – "Ginny began struggling for what to say, but Hermione cut her off and began shouting.

"Don't, Hermione me. All I'm trying to do is grieve a little about your brother, is that so wrong? Why does everybody keep asking me if I'm okay? I clearly don't want to talk to anybody!" Hermione said her voice getting louder with every word she said. "Maybe if you butted out then maybe, just maybe, I'll feel better. But no you have to come in here and ask me how I'm doing just hours after Ron's funeral! I just want to cry over what I've lost because Ron is dead! He's dead!" Hermione practically screamed the last part of her sentence and she fell into a new batch of fresh sobs.

Ginny was there with her arms wrapped around Hermione, trying to comfort her. She was trying to soothe her but all the words she tried to say just sounded like a strange sounding sob. After a while of just sitting there crying, Hermione began to try and speak in between sobs.

"Ginny – he's…gone – he's –actually – gone – gone – forever. He promised – that he'd – never – leave – but – he broke it – he broke it!" Hermione managed to choke out, Ginny was unsure if Hermione was talking about Ron's promise that he'd never leave or about her broken heart. Either way Ginny just held onto her broken hearted friend and let her speak.

"Why…would – he – do this – to me? Why – did – they, take him away? He – promised Ginny – he promised – he promised he'd always be…there for me, but now…he's…he's…_gone_," she whispered this last word as if it were only just now that she realised that Ron was never coming back. She said it in a tone of finality. Ginny knew Hermione wasn't blaming Ron for leaving her, after all it wasn't his fault, she just needed someone to blame. Ginny was at a loss for words, she just tightened her hold around Hermione as if to say, "It's alright, everything's going to be okay,"

But in actual truth, it wasn't. She once heard a muggle saying that said things have to get worse before they get better. Ginny, for once, believed something a muggle made up because she knew the grieving for her brother was only going to get worse before it got any better.

There wasn't anything that Ginny could say to Hermione at that moment that wouldn't sound offensive to her. Ginny knew that Hermione held a special place in her heart for Ron; she even told her personally that Ron was the only person she could see herself with. But after his death, all her future plans fell to pieces.

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It wasn't until much later, when day fell into the evening did Hermione realise she had fallen asleep. The Burrow was quiet, the silence was eerie and Hermione tried to fall back to sleep. But sleep would not come so she tried to get up from Ron's comfortable bed. She began attempting to try and flatten her hair, but the attempt was unhelpful. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, she looked about herself and breathed in another lungful of air that smelled like Ron. Her throat was burning as the air rushed in and out through her throat; this was caused by her many hours of crying.

Inside Ron's room made her feel at home, but when he wasn't there it just felt like a room. The orange walls were what made it so bright; it was almost the same colour as his vividly red hair. Hermione missed his hair; she missed the feel of it, its thickness and the way it was cut at just the right length. Thinking this, Hermione felt her tears trying to emerge from her eyes once again, everything about him she missed. She even missed the fights they had constantly; Ron arguing about a small insignificant thing with her could almost be passed as a pleasurable pastime at that moment.

Her hand passed over the Chudley Cannons jersey she was currently wearing, it had a small hole at the rim of the shirt and a small string was hanging loosely from it. Hermione twirled her finger around it and lay there not making a sound, her mind for once, totally blank.

Suddenly quite sick of the silence she lit a candle and Hermione noticed a book that was lying on top of Ron's dresser, she mustn't have noticed earlier as she was crying too much. The book was in fact a photo album, Hermione opened the front cover and she began to cry incessantly. Because on that page was a photo of her and Ron in their sixth year hugging tightly and then breaking apart and smiling widely at each other. Tears began to flood her vision and it made it too impossible to see. She shut the book and blew out the candle, in the darkness she lay for an immeasurable amount of time thinking about the high's and low's of her relationship with Ron. She knew nothing would be able to bring him back, even if there was a way the Ministry never found Ron's body. Again, after an immeasurable amount of time her mind had gone blank, but not for long.

Just as she was about to fall into a deep slumber her thoughts kept returning to Ron, she couldn't shrug the feeling that Ron was still there, wanting to be with her but was lost some how. But she shrugged the feeling off as her being stupid and foolish, and she pushed the thought into the back of her mind.

**A/N: Love? Hate?? Please review!!!! I love reviews and it would make me real happy:) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Ok so here is chapter 2 in my little story, favouriting this is always welcome but I love reviews and I'm going back to school soon******** so a few reviews will cheer me up greatly!!! This chapter was written listening to Stranger – Secondhand Serenade. Just another great song I'm addicted too!!!! **

"_Black…that's all I can see now. Black. Where am I? Why can't I see anything? _His thoughts kept wondering around this topic for quite a long time. All he remembered was feeling hands grip the top of his arms and carrying him to a place that was a mystery to him. He tried to cry out to someone for help but no one came, his throat was swollen. _"But why, why is my throat swollen?" _His thoughts once again were questions.

So many questions were swimming around his brain he felt as though he was going to burst. All of a sudden someone entered where he lay, he presumed, and he felt his pulse quicken. Then somebody turned on what seemed to be a light, and a figure towered over him.

The man stood over him, examining his legs and checking his pulse then regularly writing something down on a clipboard in his hand. He came over after he finished writing and looked at the man on the bed; he got out a thin piece of wood and flicked it. Something flew into his hand and he came closer, the man lying on the bed looked up frightened at what the man was going to do to him.

"It's okay son, I'm just trying to see if you're alright. I just want to know what you're blood pressure is," the unknown man said putting a strange thing around his upper arm and he began to feel pressure where the device was. He winced at the strange thing on his arm and the man smiled kindly. When the machine beeped the man took off the device and wrote again on his clipboard.

He looked up smiling, then said, "It appears as if you are a very healthy young man, after two weeks of being asleep you seem to have recovered quite nicely," he then stood there for about two seconds and then said quickly, "Oh my, I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Dr Murray Cartwright, lead wizarding physician at the Wizarding Hospital in Sydney. I unfortunately do not know your name yet, can you tell me?" the kind doctor asked in a strong Australian accent.

For the first time there were no questions concerning about where he was; he was only thinking about _who_ he was…but he couldn't seem to remember.

"I…don't...know," he replied seeming confused that he couldn't remember something as simple as his own name. His own voice startled him. The normally rich, low tones of his voice were now hoarse and strained, he cleared his throat. He wondered about his own accent, it was different to the kind doctor's.

Dr Cartwright's face fell and then smiled comfortingly, "Well, that is unfortunate. We'll just call you…John for now. How about that? Yes I think it would be very good, well I better be off now a nurse will be in to see you soon. And don't worry, we'll help you remember who you are mate,"

The doctor then patted him on the shoulder gently and exited the room, whistling to himself softly as he went.

"_John…John…"_ he kept thinking as he soon as the doctor left, it felt out of place somehow but he guessed it would have to do. John was sitting on his bed when he suddenly felt the need to use the toilet; he looked about himself and noticed a small white door. He guessed it was a toilet so he cautiously got out of his bed and moved toward it, he turned the knob gently and there was in fact a small bathroom. John did his business and then walked over to the sink and washed his hands, whilst he washed them he looked into the mirror.

This was the first time he'd ever seen himself, well before he couldn't remember who he was. The red hair, the freckles, and the long nose. He admired himself for a while; he kept touching his red hair and tracing his long nose. Then John heard something in the other room, he turned off the tap, dried his hands and peered nervously out through the door frame.

There stood a young nurse with brown frizzy hair, a slight figure and fair skin. She noticed him over by the door and smiled at him, John couldn't tear his eyes off her as she came closer and began guiding him to his bed, all the while saying, "Don't worry, just come and sit down. Don't be afraid,"

When John sat down the young nurse turned to face him, her eyes were the most beautiful brown he'd ever seen and he smiled at her. John couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed in her presence even though they'd only met a few seconds ago. He also felt as though he'd seen her before. She returned the smile and began talking.

"So, Dr Cartwright tells me that you've lost your memory. Is that correct?" the young nurse asked while referring down to her clipboard. John sat there only nodding slightly.

"Ok and it says here that he's named you John? Am I correct?" she asked. John was getting a little tired of the questions but still nodded politely. "Right, well my name is Nurse Cringer and I've been assigned to your case until you gain back your memory," she added politely.

"The first thing to do in your situation is to try and remember as much of your past as possible, then we can try and piece together the puzzle pieces," Nurse Cringer smiled then continued, "Would you like to say something? Or ask something,"

John sat there thinking about things that had happened, he couldn't seem to remember anything then realised something that had been nagging him for a while. "Why am I in Sydney? How did I get here?" he felt completely stupid for asking because how could she possibly know anything about what had happened to him. Nurse Cringer's face fell; she was obviously hoping that he would not ask any questions that could not be answered.

"I'm so sorry John, I don't know but I'm sure we'll figure it out," she smiled kindly. "How about you try and tell me what you remember before you woke up," again she smiled but this time it was encouraging.

John swept through his memories but all he could remember was waking up in this dark room.

"All I remember is waking up here; it was really dark, then that doctor came in and checked up on me," John replied to Nurse Cringer. He felt himself getting frustrated by these useless questions but he couldn't understand why. Nurse Cringer wrote something down in a book, she was frowning slightly.

"Well, this is most unusual. Most people whose memories have been obliviated can remember _some _things, such as daily events that took place in their lives, a fond memory, their family members birthdays for example. But you can't seem to," she said then writing once again in her notebook.

John sat there trying to remember, his temper flaring but he gained control and asked another question, "Where did you find me?" was all he could ask.

Nurse Cringer thought for a while then said, "I read on your file that you were found in an alleyway next to the Australian muggle Embassy, I don't know why you were there but I'll make sure I can try and help you,"

Again John asked a question he was curious about. "How did you know I was…magical?" And once again Nurse Cringer was mentally reading his profile, but then stopped thinking and turned to John.

"Can you remember something about the magical community? Or the muggle community?" she asked clearly intrigued.

John wondered where he got this information, he was sure no one had ever brought it up. Then again he saw Dr Cartwright using his wand and telling him about the Wizarding Hospital in Sydney. Plus Nurse Cringer had mentioned the 'muggle and wizarding community' had she not? But then if he couldn't remember who he was or where he came from, why is it that he can remember what wizards and muggles are? Once again John found himself losing his temper, but tried not to show it.

Then Nurse Cringer's face lit up, like she was having some great epiphany.

"Amazing…the person who obliviated your memories must have been skilful as you can not just pick out what memories on people you don't know. But this person could, it's obvious that this person knew who you were or else they wouldn't have been able to perfect the spell. Maybe they were trying to get information from you? They've most likely completely cleared your memory but kept the basics, but they weren't very careful as they obliviated your memory enough to make you forget your own name.

"There have been cases like this, but they are very rare. I heard over in England a famous wizard named…ah yes, Gilderoy Lockhart got his memories obliviated but he never fully recovered," she said whilst again writing hurriedly in her notebook.

John was trying to take it all in, but her speech didn't make any sense. _"Why the bloody hell is she going on about this Gilderoy Lockhart bloke?" _he thought angrily. This must be what happens to her when she gets excited, she rambles.

Nurse Cringer looked up from her book again and looked apologetically at John. Her hair looked frizzier than it did before, all this extra thinking must be making it uncontrollable.

"I'm so sorry; I completely forgot that you probably don't understand a thing I'm going on about. I'm sorry if I confused you, I doubt you've ever heard of Gilderoy Lockhart," she said then looking into John's eyes, her brown eyes looked like they could pierce right through him.

"No, I haven't. How did the poor bloke lose his memory? Must have been bad if he can't even remember what magic is," John said trying to better understand the world around him.

Nurse Cringer's eyes flashed and she got excited about giving out this piece of information that everybody already knew, well everybody except this poor man.

"He was a very well known wizard in England and he published books about his triumphs with dark witches and wizards. I honestly thought he was a fake but then again he was very handsome, I unfortunately didn't get the chance to visit England before he went off to teach at Hogwarts –"

"What's Hogwarts?" John asked, curiosity getting the better of him . Nurse Cringer looked at him as if considering scolding him or not for interrupting.

"Uh, it's the legendary wizarding school in England. Gilderoy went to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, but an obliviate charm went wrong and he lost his memories. You seem very interested to know about this school, do you remember going there? You have an English accent so I'm just assuming you went," Nurse Cringer said again taking notes at lightning bolt speed.

If John was confused before then he was getting even more confused by the second. His head began to ache and his mouth was dry. He felt slightly dizzy.

"Are you alright, John? You look a bit pale," Nurse Cringer said getting up and examining his vital stats, concern etched on her face.

John's world was spinning around him, he felt a bit sick. He slumped further into his bed, but before his lights went out completely he saw the face of an unknown man standing above him. He had messy raven black hair and bright green eyes behind a pair of glasses, he was calling out a name but John didn't seem to recognise it. Then his vision blurred and there was Nurse Cringer…or so he thought it was Nurse Cringer.

Then John's world spiralled into darkness.

**A/N: **

**:O What will happen!?!?! Ok so some people have caught on about what might happen but hey I'm very predictable but I might through in something completely unexpected!!!! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm getting hooked on this story lolz!!**

**Sammy!!! xoxo (ROONILWAZLIB101) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Well everybody, here is Chapter 3!!! Hope you like it!!! **

**Chapter 3 **

Ginny Weasley walked through an old and battered corridor, the floor boards creaking under her weight as she passed over them. Dust was once again gathering in thick piles everywhere she looked, and stray bits of spider web were hanging from the ceiling.

Grimmauld Place looked much more run down and untidy than it had that time when the Order had set up its headquarters there, her mother had commanded everyone to help clean the ancient and dirty building over the summer spent there. It wasn't a pleasant experience; she'd never forget the painful days she'd spent there trying to get her hand to come free from a _Super Sticky Sticking Charm _on an old cabinet in one of the old spare bedrooms, thanks to Kreacher, the old house elf that served the Black family.

She came to the end of the corridor and was met by a flight of stairs; she quickly ascended them and came to a lone door on the very top floor of the old house. Sighing softly, she put her hand on the dusty door knob and turned it. Ginny came face to face with an odd sight, Harry Potter was lying sprawled in one corner of the room holding a bottle of Firewhisky and in the other corner was a slightly disgruntled looking Kreacher.

Ginny stopped at the doorway to the room and looked around, the room was a complete mess. There were Harry's shirts lying randomly across the room, piles of rubbish and alcohol bottles were scattered on the floor and a foul odour was coming from inside a closet in one corner of the room. Kreacher looked relived to see her and quickly scuttled out of the room. He heard him murmuring "hope's the young Weasley girl can help Master Harry" and "better get a good meal for Master Harry".

Slowly, Ginny crossed the small room and stood in front of Harry. He was sleeping in an awkward position, his glasses lightly askew, his mouth hanging slightly open, a bit of drool coming down the side of his face and his face turned sporting a small frown. Ginny shook him gently; the only response she got from him was a loud, annoyed grunt. Ginny huffed and grabbed his shoulder firmly and began shaking him, Harry's eyes shot open quickly and shouted "Ron, where are you?!"

Ginny looked down at him sympathetically and said, "It's not Ron, it's me, Ginny,"

Harry, who was still half asleep, looked up at her lazily. His usually bright green eyes were dull and lifeless, Ginny couldn't look him in the eye for more than a minute or else she too might be engulfed by the looming dread that was threatening to swallow her if she accidently let her guard down. Instead, she dropped down to her knees and wrapped Harry into her arms and held him there. Heart breaking sobs wracked through Harry's body, shaking both of them.

Ginny let her own tears fall down into Harry's hair as she held him tight, not moving until Harry had settled a bit and took Ginny's hand in his and squeezed it. Ginny was still refusing to look into his eyes and opted to look at his face but not directly at him. She ran her thumb across his cheek and wiped his tears away, then her hand moving into his black unkempt hair and attempting to flatten it. Harry's eyes were closed as her hand attempted to keep his hair in order, but Ginny gave up and sat cross-legged next to Harry. He didn't look at her but instead was stroking her hand softly with his thumb.

Ginny looked down at their entwined hands and the seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours. The silence that loomed over them was almost deafening, the only sounds were of banging pots coming from the kitchen, and no doubt Kreacher was trying to fix up a meal for Harry. Her heart gave a little lurch when Harry finally began to speak.

"What – what time is Gin?" said Harry his voice hoarse and croaky from lack of use. Ginny looked down at her watch and her eyes widened a little.

"It's 7:30, I've been here for nearly four hours," She replied.

Ginny had come to Grimmauld Place for a reason; to get Harry. He'd been locked up in this room for about a week, not speaking to anyone, not eating and not trying to move on as she was trying to. Harry had lost his best friend; Ginny had lost her closest brother. Technically, Ron had been Harry's brother so she knew the pain he was feeling. Kreacher had come to the Burrow a few days before and had requested that she come to help Harry get out of his drunken stupor.

Ginny glanced around her, she found about five empty bottles of Firewhisky scattered around where Harry lay, plus the bottle that lay in his hand. The smell was so strong she cringed away from it, the smell of Firewhisky was also prominent on Harry who looked as though he hadn't had a proper meal and wash in days.

He had dark circles under his eyes; his glasses were untidily positioned on his face and his hair felt greasy as, she presumed, he had not washed it for a while. Harry's clothes he wore were from when he spent his days at the Dursley's. He only wore these clothes when he was sad or miserable, something that he always felt when he spent time at Privet Drive.

Ginny examined him further, and noticed a piece of paper sticking out of Harry's jeans pocket. She was about to ask what it was when Kreacher walked through the door holding a silver tray with two steaming bowls filled with what looked like stew, and two bottles of Butterbeer.

The old house elf set it down on the floor in front of Harry and Ginny. Ginny looked up and thanked him, then turned to Harry who didn't even acknowledge Kreacher's presence. Instead he looked straight at the food with a reminiscing expression on his face. Kreacher gave up waiting for an answer and shuffled out of the room and leaving the two alone once more. Once he was gone Ginny spoke up.

"Harry Potter! What is wrong with you, Kreacher is going out of his way to help you and you can't even bother to say thank you for the meal he has just spent hours preparing!" she scolded as Harry began to look slowly at her.

"It's his favourite meal…beef stew, it was his favourite meal," Harry said sadly then looking at the bowls of stew once more. Ginny's heart seemed to clench at this, she knew Harry was right but how would Kreacher know that?

Ginny was at a loss for words, her grief seemed to engulf her for a few seconds then slowly she regained control of herself.

"Harry…I know this is hard, believe me I know. But you have to eat something, and this is the only thing that you have…unless you want to come back to the Burrow with me," Ginny said while hoping that Harry would agree to go home with her to the Burrow. Before she left that day her mother told her to try and fetch him and bring him back, she believed that he wasn't eating much. And she was right.

Harry just slowly reached out and took a swig of his Butterbeer and setting it back down on the tray; he then closed his eyes and looked as though he had fallen asleep. Ginny watched him, and then he opened his eyes and looked her right in the eyes. His eyes seemed less dull than they had before but were still lacking the sparkle that would always be seen.

"I'm happy you're here Gin, I miss you," Harry said softly and moved closer to her. Ginny met him halfway and she enclosed him in a tight hug, she was so glad Harry wanted her there.

Harry felt stronger now that she was with him, better that his love had come to him. He felt a stab of guilt, he shouldn't be happy he should be mourning like everyone else. He thought of Hermione, how she would never feel the sense of love that he felt right now with Ginny that she would have with Ron. Ron…his partner in crime, his best mate, his _brother_.

One third of the golden trio never to be seen again.

A sudden wave of guilt mingled with grief washed over him, he realised that he shouldn't be feeling happy, that he should be feeling sad and miserable. But with Ginny there, all that seemed to disappear. Harry quickly let go of Ginny and instantly missed her, he moved a few inches away so that they once again were sitting side by side.

Harry looked at Ginny and saw the hurt and misery etched into her face and deep within her brown eyes.

"I'm sorry Gin, but I just feel so guilty about actually feeling slightly happy. I feel like I shouldn't…" Harry said slowly watching Ginny as her face softened slightly.

"It's ok to feel something other than misery Harry; you shouldn't feel guilty about it at all," Ginny replied and took his hand in hers.

"Yeah, but I feel like…I'm betraying his memory by feeling happy," Harry argued but Ginny shot him down. It clearly pained Harry to use Ron's name, so he didn't even mention it at all.

"Harry, you're not feeling happy about Ron's death, you're feeling happy because you know that I love you. Am I correct?" Ginny asked but knew that answer as Harry swooped in and took her in his arms, laying her head on his chest. He still smelled of Firewhisky but she didn't care about it at that moment, she was just glad to get back the little part of Harry that went missing.

"Yes, that's exactly right… but I want to know… how's Hermione doing? I'm so sorry for running away and coming here, I just couldn't stand it at the Burrow. You know, it felt like a tonne of bricks fell onto the house and was smothering it making it hard to breathe," Harry said through Ginny's hair.

"I know what you mean, I went outside to think every chance I got but I knew I had to take care of the family. Mum was a wreck and dad was trying desperately to help her, Fred and George hadn't been home at all, Charlie went to the pub every night and Bill was off with Fleur to do his own grieving. Percy works at the ministry every day, long hours too and doesn't come home sometimes…and Hermione," Ginny paused to take a breath and tried to explain about her best friends' behaviour.

"Hermione is the most active out of all of us," Ginny concluded.

"What?" Harry asked abruptly, clearly not predicting this answer.

"Well, Hermione has been working a lot around the house, you know cleaning out the shed, helping dad with all his muggle junk, preparing meals with mum, trying to de-gnome the garden. Mum and I are starting to get worried, she's stressing herself out and she says she's perfectly happy. We can all see how much this is hurting her, it's hurting her the most. It made me want to cry when I heard her sobbing after the funeral, it's not in the Hermione way to be completely fine after a death…especially now that the death was Ron," Ginny informed Harry all she could about Hermione's current state.

Ginny was right, this was unusual for Hermione but also not, maybe she just felt as though she was useless and wanted to help out. But he knew the reason was not something either Ginny or Harry wanted to delve into at that moment. He was worried what she would do when she read the letter he now carried in his pocket at that moment.

As if Ginny had read his mind, she reached down to his pocket and extracted from it an envelope. She turned in around in her hands, and he heard her gasp and look up at him.

"That's right Ginny, it's a letter from Ron," Harry said nodding slowly.

Ginny slowly handed it back to him, and wondered whether or not this would make Hermione better, or worse. She was hoping it would not do anymore damage.

**A/N: Chapter 3 done!!!! Weeeeee!!! You'll have to wait a few more chapters for the letter, sorry******** Reviews are AWESOME!! So please help make me very happy******

**Sammy xoxo**


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